The Chronicles of Thorpe Book 1 - Normality
by blottingandflourishing
Summary: The day to day goings on of Amelia Thorpe, 5th year Gryffindor and Prefect, and Chaser and Vice Captain on the Quidditch Team... and trying very hard not to hate Oliver Wood... Rated M because you can never be too careful :) But won't be anything major.
1. Prologue

_Prologue_

One idea I managed to grasp during my fifth year at Hogwarts, was the difference between heaven and hell.

The difference being, that one is a house for all the good people, and one is a house for all the bad. Does that mean that every person fits into one of two categories? Good or bad? I wondered at this thought. Does doing just one good or bad deed, automatically qualify you for one of the two places?

I suppose this could apply to the houses at Hogwarts… A Gryffindor's qualities do include brave and loyal, and we all know what Slytherins want to be when they grow up.

So I guess Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws are just neutral. Purgatory. Switzerland. And we Gryffs' are stuck defending our dignity against a load of snakes. Literally.

Lucky sods. Bet the Puffers would love a piece of the action.

How many meanings can you get out of that one…? Damn my dirty mind. I blame Fred Weasley for that. And Alicia.

Oh, and Oliver - fricking perfect - Wood.

You know, sometimes I wish I wasn't a Prefect. Then I could constantly charm his fricking-perfect mouth SHUT. Believe me; he deserves every spell I send his way.

Course, it doesn't help matters that all my friends think I fancy him. And vice versa. The whole lot of them are off their rockers.

"Give me one good reason why you think Wood fancies me, Ang?"

"Because I'm your best friend, I know these things."

"That's true. But that excuse only worked two years ago, when you tried to convince me that Snape actually shampoos his hair."

"I swear to this day he does. It looks all clean when you get up close and personal."

"…..I don't want to get up close and personal, Ang. EVER. I think you've permanently scarred my brain…And don't change the subject! Give me a reason!" (She didn't answer for several seconds, but I gathered it was difficult for her.)

"Well…he asks you out at least five times a day."

"He does that to piss me off. Not because he fancies me."

"You are just in denial."

"That's fine by me! At least this discussion can finally be over! Oh," (as she grudgingly started to leave) "and feel free to spread the word, I know how Alicia loves a good chinwag."

She couldn't argue with me there. At least she'd leave me in peace now. She may be my best friend, and I may love her to bits, but having Madame Pince give you evils from behind her counter is not how I would describe 'Happy Hour' in the Library. And I need to stay in her good books (excuse the pun), OWL's start in a few days, and I'm completely abusing my revision timetable.

I shouldn't have agreed to that five-a-side Quidditch game the twins planned last week, but my Nimbus hadn't had an outing in days. I did miss an entire day of work though. Yeah, yeah, call me what you like.

However, looking around the deserted room, I was actually surprised to see how deserted it actually was. There should be at least a couple more fifth years in here, and, I'm sorry to say, Oliver Wood should be among them. He was nearly as much of a swot as I was.

Talk. Of. The. Devil.

As soon as he walked through the door and spotted me, I was sure he walked towards me for one of two reasons:

He's come to ask me out. AGAIN. Start looking around for a hasty exit.

Or, he's come to bug me, for the same thing he's been bugging me for the past two days; an answer to his stupid problem. I still don't get what the problem is, as he won't actually _tell _me what it is.

I said as much to him when he reached me, before he managed to open his mouth. I get Brownie points for good timing.

This, I felt, was my chance for afore-mentioned hasty exit. My chances were 50/50- If I got packed up and out the door fast enough, he may not realize I've actually gone (as thick as his brain is). The chances of that working though, were slim, as he is _very persistent. _The worst case scenario being, he doesn't let me leave at all, and I'm stuck listening to him drone on for at least ten minutes, before I can make some excuse. But being Oliver Wood, he would have to insist on walking with me, knowing full well it would piss me off even more…

I can't believe he hasn't realized I'm not _actually _listening…Right, let's do this then.

Phase One: I managed to skillfully pack up my parchment and quills without him realizing. It was easier than I thought, but then Wood _was_ on a roll.

Phase Two: Leave the library, carrying two incredibly heavy books on Ancient Runes, one equally heavy bag, and my sense of dignity, all before Wood realizes that I have indeed managed to thwart his plans yet again.

Cue evil laugh.

Unfortunately, Phase Two was botched by the timely blocking of two all too innocent second years, who had just decided this was the perfect time to moan about the bucket load of work they'd been set over the summer.

_Right outside the bloody door._

By the time I'd barged past them, docked ten points off them because a) they were Hufflepuffs (they've got less brain than Wood put together), and b) because they were just plain pissing me off, Wood managed to catch up, exclaiming loudly that I didn't appreciate what he was telling me.

I didn't, but I wasn't about to tell _him_ that.

"What exactly have you been telling me? My brain hasn't had to process anything yet."

He muttered something under his breath which I didn't quite catch. I took this opportunity, as we walked back to the common room, to try and get something decent out of him…

"I honestly don't understand what the problem _is_."

"The problem…the problem is we need to be sure it doesn't happen again." NOW I knew what he was on about. And, I guess he did have a point about it, but again, I wasn't going to tell _him_ that.

"Nothing happened in the first place, Harry is fine."

"No he is not fine! He's been in the Hospital Wing for the past week!"

"Yeah, but he's not dying Wood."

"Thorpe, will you just listen to me?"

"I've _been _listening, for the past ten minutes, and you've failed to tell me anything, as usual."

"Look…"

"No, you look Wood. I have an Ancient Runes O.W.L exam in two days, and if I didn't have to make a generous contribution to the organization of this team, as my role as vice-captain requires it, I would be telling you to sod the hell off. Clear?"

"Crystal"

"Wow, you _do_ have a brain. I'll see you at dinner then."

As I start to walk away, a humongous grin plastered on my face, he shouts back to me. My grin falters a little. _Only_ a little.

"Oi! Thorpe! I haven't even told you what I want to do!"

"It's not as if I'm disappearing off the face of the Earth."

"Why do you have to be so dramatic?"

I ignored that.

"We have all summer for you to tell me… urgh, that's an awful thought."

"Why?"

"Because, Wood, the thought of having to spend the last two weeks of my long-awaited summer holiday, with you, is just horrific. Yes, it's at the house of my best friend where the rest of our friends will be, but its two weeks longer than I anticipated… honestly, it doesn't even want to bear thinking about."

"The feeling is completely mutual."

"Glad we agree."

As I turn my back from him again, I hear that stupid Scottish drone, in all its perfectness.

"Hey, Thorpe!"

I whirl around, glaring daggers at him the best I could, seen as we were half a corridor apart. That doesn't stop him grinning at me like a Cheshire cat.

"It's three weeks!"

I just ignored him. I would not give him the satisfaction. Nor would I sink to his level. Amelia Thorpe does not do that.

But Amelia Thorpe does wish to participate in the scheming plotting I shall soon ensue with afore-mentioned BFF. Finally, Wood has met his end.

"MWAHAHAHA!"

Oh, great. He's still at the other end of the corridor isn't he?

I'm gonna kill him.

Well, no one would be surprised if I did.


	2. Chapter 1 - We Aim to Please

Chapter 1

I am officially writing the worst 'Howler' humanely possible, to the person, or persons, responsible for the invention of O.W.L exams.

Three words: SPAWN. OF. VOLDEMORT.

I decided this after sitting an incredibly frustrating History of Magic exam, which in total lasted all of three hours.

Three. Hours. Why did I freely submit myself to this unbelievable torture?

I can just hear that squeaky little voice in my head, going _"__because you love it, because you love it!__"_Zip it, you. I've got enough to deal with at the moment, thank you.

The only reason I 'love' the subject, as my Jiminy Cricket was kind enough to point out, is because it's an incredibly easy subject. Nobody learns anything in Binns' lessons, so it's pretty much a 'do everything by yourself' job. And I'm what you call an- independent learner. Astonishing, I know. Enough about that though. Moving on to happier things…

Including the first day the inhabitants of Hogwarts have actually seen the sun, in about two weeks. Meaning I have a date with a lovely patch of grass, my gal pals, and a pair of very short shorts. But no doubt the clouds will bring the rain back tomorrow. They must miss being away from us, they can't bear to stay away too long. Why is Scotland so dreary and depressive? Mind you, thank Merlin Hogwarts isn't in Wales-then we might as well all go join a convent...

Chuckling to myself, I spotted Alicia Spinnet apparently sun-bathing, by the tree just overlooking the lake. I say 'apparently', as it looked from my distance like she had every piece of clothing she owned on her body. (This wasn't a lot, as all her clothes consisted of either short skirts or skimpy tops.) The equivalent of Oliver Wood, but with less hair.

…Although, he would look incredibly fetching in a mini skirt and a pair of heels… I started laughing loudly as I approached her, which must have caught her attention.

"'Mi? Is that you?" She poked her head out from underneath her floppy hat.

When she realized it _was_ me, she said, "What are you laughing about?"

Should I divulge her? Diversion alert!

"I'm laughing at you Ally, you numpty! I thought the point of sunbathing was the Sun needed to see your _skin_ for it to actually work." I raised my eyebrows.

"Yeah, I know, but I don't want to get burned."

"You won't get anything looking like that! Unless you count dehydrated."

"Ha, ha very funny," she answered sarcastically, "I'm sure you can remember last year," (I winced, painfully remembering the fiasco the summer before,) "I've learned my lesson."

"I should hope so!" I told her, "You almost disintegrated!"

"It wasn't _that_ bad-"

"I have pictures." That shut her up.

"I hope you don't intend showing them."

Whoops. Should I tell her they're currently masking as 'wallpaper' in the Gryffindor common room? Uh, oh. She must have spotted my guilty face. Ok, remain calm….

"AMELIA! THAT IS SO NOT COOL!"

Alright Thorpe, play to your strengths. Time to initiate 'lay the blame on someone else…

"It wasn't me! I have angelic-like qualities!"

"Who was it then?"

_Don't crack…don't crack…don't crack…_

"I do not divulge names…" (Alicia started to retort.) "But if I did," (She closed her mouth again.) "I wouldn't go looking for anyone that didn't have red hair, and a twin."

"Oh that's just typical!" she yelled, getting to her feet.

I forced myself not to grin. "I'm sure it's not that bad!" I shouted after her, as she was now storming up the slope to the front doors of the castle. You could literally see the smoke billowing out of her ears, as if she'd had boiling water poured into them. And I'm supposed to be the one with the fiery temper.

Watching Alicia leave, I realized I was once more alone to my thoughts. Not a healthy thing to leave me alone with, in my opinion. I couldn't really think of anything decent to think about, so I started mulling over my History of Magic paper. I must of closed my eyes for a second and dozed off, as I was jerked awake by none other than _Mr-I'm-so-dreamy-I-could-just-float-away-on-a-fluffy-white-cloud-Wood._

Good job (for him I mean) that I was asleep and didn't see him. If I'd have spotted him coming my way, I would've scarpered.

Okaay…he's looking at me really weirdly. Awkwardness… Alright, it didn't work the first time, but now it can't fail. Operation Hasty Exit Part Two is a go! MOVE, MOVE, MOVE!

"Where are you going?" called a voice behind me. Oh no, no, no, no, no, you do not get to use those innocent big brown eyes, that have got you nearly every girl in this school, on me mister. No way. Uh, uh. Nooo sir.

Turning around, I'm actually a little surprised to see how disappointed he looks to see me leave, and it seems completely genuine too. Meh, he could've had lessons. He's not getting me _that_ easily. – Alright, he is. Sue me.

"Okay, I'm sitting back down," I told him, placing myself next to him, but not too close. We don't want to give him any ideas now, do we? "What do you want to talk about?" I continued.

"Oh, nothing really." I stared at him in disbelief, then realized what I was doing and quickly looked away, blushing furiously. From his lack of reaction, I guessed he hadn't noticed. Good, his head's big enough as it is, we do not want him getting the wrong idea. Still, I was not just going to sit here. I voiced my concerns over his lack of conversation. The result was _exactly_ what I had anticipated.

"Why do I have to be the one to talk?" he replied, almost skeptically. Well excuse me, Mr Wood, but I'm not the one wanting this conversation. I'd much rather be somewhere else, like my bed.

_He's still not speaking… how am I supposed to know what he wants to talk about? I'm not particularly adept at Occulmency…although I can get by speaking Troll… _

"Honestly Wood, how am I supposed to know what you want to talk about?" I said disgruntling to him. We had been sitting here, in silence, for the past ten minutes. I was missing my very important 'let's go sit in the library and stare at Cedric Diggory just because we can' date with Angelina. We can't miss any sessions; it could completely mess up the entire plan.

You probably think I'm some weird stalker now, don't you?

Well, I'm not, it just so happens I have one MAJOR crush on him. The majority of the female population at Hogwarts does, but I'm not intimidated by the competition. I automatically gain the upper hand because I'm an older woman. Stick your wand up THAT and wave it, Cho Chang. She's practically the President of the Cedric Diggory fan club. It's actually disgusting. Who is she to think she can throw herself at him on a daily basis and get away with it? At least _I _try and act casual when I do it... Some Ravenclaws are absolute riffraff- and don't even get me started on the Puffers…

_I have got to stop talking to myself; people are gonna start thinking I'm a nutter otherwise… _

"Well, sorry Wood but I'm gonna have to love and leave you, my legs have fallen asleep," I said to him, slowly getting to my feet and shaking my limbs around a bit. I wasn't completely fibbing, but I wasn't exactly telling the truth either. Acting like Pinocchio was worth the risk though, if it meant I could get away from him. Even if I did look like an idiot; it felt like I was dancing some weird rendition of the 'Hokey Kokey'… Never mind, all's fair in love and war…

With Wood and me, it's war, definitely NOT love…

And WHY is he following me?

"Hey listen," I heard him running to catch up with me. The boy literally doesn't quit…

"Wood, you're like a broken record honestly."

"A- What?" Cue massive inward sigh… Sometimes it's tough being Muggleborn.

"Just speak, or forever hold your peace."

"Merlin, you're dramatic."

"So you've said…"

"Yeah, well I need to tell you about my plan for next year's season, since your vice-captain and all…"

_Sigh…don't I know it. _

"…yeah, well I tried to talk to you about it last week, but you we're a bit distracted, but I'm guessing now OWL's are over we can really start to focus on it. What do you think?"

_Just nod, keep nodding._

"Right, so my idea was…I was thinking it might be best if we have try-outs in September for a reserve team, and I'm not just thinking of a reserve Seeker because of Harry, it'll be good if we had replacements for everyone, just in case…"

He trailed off, looking intently at me, probably seeking some sort of trophy, for an idea I'm guessing must have taken him at least two weeks to think up.

Raising an eyebrow, I asked him incredulously, "Even a reserve for you? The indestructible Oliver Wood doesn't get injured!"

He had the dignity to blush a little… _Aww, bless. _"Well, we can't be too careful, especially if we're playing Slytherin," he scowled.

"That is true, and a reserve team is a good idea Oliver." I patted his arm, smiling at him.

I realized my mistake as soon as I saw the cocky smirk and the expression on his face…

"Hey, Thorpe…"

"No Wood, I will not go out with you!"

….

Took me the entire afternoon to try and shake him off, so by the time I'd met Angelina and Alicia in the common room to walk down to the feast, I was pretty famished.

Keeping Wood at arm's length definitely takes the energy out of you.

"I always think the Great Hall looks amazing at the end-of-year Feast," Alicia said as we entered through the doors. The noise coming from the Slytherins was loud to say the least.

_I'm guessing they won the cup. Again. _

"It would look even better if all you could see was red and gold, rather than evil green and silver," I muttered to them.

"I am actually seething," Fred Weasley told everyone, as we all sat down in our usual seats at the end of the long Gryffindor table, "How the hell did the snakes win the House Cup? AGAIN. I swear to Merlin we must be jinxed or something."

"Tell me about it," Wood added, sitting down opposite me. "I wish we could just win once so we could shove it up Flint's arse-"

Marcus Flint, was Oliver Woods sworn enemy. Well, I guess you could say he was the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team's enemy, but Flint will always hold a special place in Wood's heart…

And it's only because Flint always tries to hit on me. And because he's a complete and utter Flobberworm. Wood doesn't do himself any favors though; every time Flint so much as winks at me, Woods got him in a vice grip. It's one of the main reasons everyone thinks he fancies me- which he doesn't, by the way.

"Yes Wood, we'd all like to have Flint's penis on a plate, but we've got to be realistic," I told him.

"We Gryffs' have got to face the facts," added George to the left of me (I think Fred was laughing under the table), "The chances of us winning anything before we graduate are slim to none."

"Ow! - I don't think they're even slim," muttered Fred half-heartedly, rubbing the top of his head as he emerged.

"We've lost the Quidditch Cup, we've lost the House Cup, and our Seekers been injured. It can't get any worse!" Wood replied angrily. "I honestly thought Harry was the answer to our problems this year." We all glanced up the table towards where Harry Potter sat, along with his first year friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. Harry still had the bandage on his hand, and there were quite a few rumors circling the corridors as to how he got it. None of us knew the actual truth, but we had a pretty good idea.

"It's not Harry's fault though," I said to them. "I'm sure he couldn't help it, whatever happened."

"We've just got to try better next year," Alicia replied.

Wood didn't have time to retort, as at that moment the Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, stood up from his high-back chair and started to speak to us, signaling the beginning of the feast. Time for the verdict…

….

"Uhh, Ang why is there six of you?"

The party was in full force, and it wasn't even midnight. The entire common room had turned into a human obstacle course; you were either doing some crazy dance looking like an idiot, on the floor passed out looking even more of an idiot, or bent over in a corner throwing up.

Thank God for firewiskey. How the twins managed it I have no idea, but no one here is going to question their talents. Especially Alicia Spinnet, who is currently so out of it you could tell her Roger Davies is gay and she'd believe it. (He's the biggest womanizer in the entire school, so unless he made a public announcement that he's suddenly turned bisexual or something, you just wouldn't even question it.)

I honestly think her drink got spiked, because there's no way she'd be this gone otherwise. But then again, tonight's a pretty good reason to celebrate if your house is the one with the big lion. Still, she's usually the one sorting _me_ out.

I just manage to side step out of the way as she casually falls head-first off the sofa, and give Angelina a worried glance. Our silent code is passed between us, as we take one of Alicia's arms each and lift her up together. (God she weighs a ton…) At least with the two of us, we might manage to get her to bed in one piece, but a flight of stairs is nobody's best friend when you have to drag someone up them. _Literally drag._

"But I wanna dance!"

"No Alicia"

"Dance!"

"No."

"Yosh sooooo nut my bosh bend anyfor!"

"That's okay Alicia, I know you don't mean that."

"I doooo!- ooo shiny…"

"Give that nice girl back her necklace Alicia."

A dozen attempted apologies and two glasses thrown at us later, we manage to get her upstairs. I am so tempted to call it a night, but a massive cheer from downstairs brings Ang and I back down.

_To the Weasley twins attempting to strip tease on top of a table._

"…Ang stop staring!"

"W-what? I wasn't!"

Pfft, yeah right Miss Johnson, you've just got a bit of drool righhht there…better get rid of that.

Attempting to drag her away doesn't help, so I leave her there to gawp and set off to find me some decent friends. Unfortunately, I bump into Mr Perfect at the drinks table. He's _finally_ happy now that Gryffindor's at last won something, even if it isn't the Quidditch Cup. Does that mean he'll let up on me? No chance. He smirks at me when he notices it's _me_ he's bumped into. And spills his drink all over my shoes.

"Hows youss doing then Forpe?"

Great. He's drunk too. _Lord take me now._

"Hi Wood, glad to see you're enjoying the party."

"I knowww! Isn't it great!"

"Yep, realllly great."

"C'mon…" He starts pulling my arm in the direction of the dance floor, "Let's dance!"

_Think of an excuse, think of an excuse…_

"OLIVER!"

_Yes! Thank you Go- Oh Lord, it's her… _I cringe inwardly at the thought of my eardrums begging me to relieve them from this impending torture… (I can just imagine Lee Jordan in his Quidditch commentary announcer voice…)

"_Introducing Miss Bitch-of-the-Year, Sally Strallen, founder and President of the Oliver Wood Fan Club, three time holder of the shortest skirt award, and currently first place on Amelia Thrope's I want to Hex You List! Let's see if she can make first years cry today, folks! TAKE IT AWAY SALLY!"_

_Lee, I wasn't actually serious… Although, he is SO not wrong there…_

Let me tell you something about Sally Strallen. You may think you have to feel sorry for her, because she may possibly have the worst name in history, and she may have a collection of clothes that even Alicia would be proud of, but she is still the most scheming, cold and calculating fifth year that you ever heard 'click' along the hallowed floors of Hogwarts school, in her 'clicky' shoes, with her clicky group of friends, who are only slightly less cold and calculating that herself.

It's basically Mean Girls. But with wands.

And I have to watch Oliver Wood succumb to this bleached haired excuse for a witch. (How she ended up in Gryffindor I'll never know, but I doubt even Flint would want her to be honest. Even he wouldn't stoop that low, but that's more than what I can say for Wood.) Can't he see she's obviously taking advantage of the fact that he's pissed out of his mind?

Apparently not, since he's currently snogging the brains out of her.

I no longer acknowledge you as a man, Oliver Wood.

I'm seriously considering breaking this party up, (or breaking his skull in) when the Weasley twins yell from their table,

"TAKE ONE FOR THE TEAM!"

_Looks like they've spotted the Slut Express…_ Walking up to their table, where they're dressed in nothing but their boxers, complete with lions tattooed on their chests, I beckon them to bend their heads down to hear me.

"Fred, George…"

"Yes?"

(I pause for dramatic effect) "You disgust me."

They both wink in unison. "We only aim to please."

….

I feel like pieces of my soul have broken off, shriveled up and died, and they're banging in my head to try and get out.

_Help me…help me…._

I know little pieces of soul, but I can't help you! I'm paralyzed and unable to move my arms to open the door for you! Show me the way to that doorknob in the sky and I'll let you go!

I am aware of the fact that I may seem slightly delusional, but given my present lack of functionality (and the fact that I'm currently sitting in the Great Hall in my Quaffle-printed onesie) I feel it's completely acceptable to milk this hangover for all its worth.

No surprise, Alicia has yet to surface from the common room. Or her bed for that matter.

I'm actually giving myself a pat on the back, because even though I didn't exactly drink much at the party, after almost throwing up looking at Wood shoving his tongue down _her_ throat, I decided to snag a bottle of firewiskey and give myself a pity party in my room.

And now I'm paying for it, but it was so worth it.

At the time. Now I'm not so sure…

I don't even know why I bothered getting up - nobody's in the Great Hall anyways, unless you count the first years. But I don't.

I lay my head down on the table in utter defeat…I want to leave, but I can't actually move myself…

"Hey Thorpe!"

_I groan inwardly. Bloody typical…_

"Guess who hooked up last night?"

_Ugh, Peeves? I'm not that stupid… _I raise my head way too fast… _wow someone's just thrown a bludger at my head…_

"Wood, does it look like I care? …Stop grinning at me!"

His laughter rang out around the empty hall, "Yeah, you do really."

"….Nope, I really don't."

"Yeah you do."

"No I- Just stop it okay, I am so not in the mood!"

"See, if you'd hooked last night, you would be in the mood."

"Because that's just my goal in life, Wood. To make out with some random stranger, just for the fun of it."

"Is that supposed to be aimed at me? Sally's not a stranger…"

_Yeah, I know…_ "What exactly is she then, your _girlfriend_? Or is she just for snogging?"

He smirked at me. "Would it bother you if she was?"

I looked at him incredulously. "…No. Do what you like, I don't care."

_Still smirking..._ "What is your problem?" I asked him.

He got up from the table, and leaning down to my ear whispered, "Not a thing."

I gaped at his back as he strutted away out of the hall…

I seriously do not understand why the Universe created men…Just to piss the girls off?

Yeah, well I am pissed off. What right did he have to come in here and brag about his love life and then waltz away? Just because mines non-existent, does not give him carte blanche to rub it in my face. It's not like I care at all.

…But do I care?

No…no I don't. If he wants to stoop as far down as Sally Strallen, then that's fine by me. And if he wants to think I'm bothered by that, let him.

Because I'm not bothered…

Am I?

God, Wood is such a Flobberworm…


End file.
